


Theory of Volatility

by bamelot89



Category: Original Work
Genre: Found Family, Magic, Modern Era, Saving the World, Talking To Dead People, Teenagers, Witches, powers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-09
Updated: 2019-06-09
Packaged: 2020-04-23 06:58:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,764
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19145881
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bamelot89/pseuds/bamelot89
Summary: A ragtag group of high schoolers gets dragged into a world of magic and violence with no one to guide them.





	Theory of Volatility

**Author's Note:**

> Some of these characters have been with me for nearly a decade and I've been trying to find the way to tell the story that surrounds them for years, and hopefully this time is it.

_Lacey_

_September._

 

I emerge in an alleyway on the other side of the world, but I don’t have much time. Any moment they could come for me. And I know too much. I know too much, and there’s too much that they could gain from me, but to just off myself would be a waste. My parents were purebloods, even after centuries, and my blood has too much potential to just throw away. So I find myself back in Chicago, after nearly a decade, because the only person I can think of that has no identifiable ties to me is here. Or I hope she still is. The one girl I made friends with when my dad moved us all to America for a year.  Taylor Wells. The seven-year-old that told me she could see people that weren’t there. That they talked to her and that she could talk to them. A gift related to the veil, but a natural one, outside the domain of magic. I of course have no idea what would actually happen, but I hope that if I can find her...if I can give her a fraction of what runs in my veins… It wouldn’t be wasted on her. I know that much at least. God, I hope her address is the same though.

I walk out of the alley and get my bearings. It’s dusk, and there are plenty of people on the street. A bus flies by and blows my hair back. If I could just get to her neighborhood, then I know I could find the house. But fuck, I have no idea how to get there from where I am now. Wherever that is.

“Excuse me!” I approach a stranger on the street, tell them the address of the elementary school I attended with Taylor for a year, and ask if they know how to get there. I luck out and they know where I’m talking about, and they tell me it’s about a thirty minute car ride, but they don’t use public transport, so they recommend getting a taxi. I thank them, and do just that. Thirty minutes later, I’m standing across the street from my old American elementary school. But I don’t have time to reminisce. My time is already running out. I set off at a brisk pace, praying that I don’t take any wrong turns. Fifteen minutes later, I’m back at another childhood landmark, but inside the Wells house all the lights are off. _Shit_ . I walk up to the front door and try knocking anyway. No answer. _Motherfucker._ I spin on my heel and stand still for a moment. I have to find her before they find me. I can’t lead them straight to her if I’m going to go through with this. It’s a Wednesday night, aren’t most kids at home on Wednesday nights?

I exhale sharply. There could be something inside that would tell me where she is. I can manage one small jump. And I’ll be quick, in and out. _One...two…_

I’m inside the house, and I press a hand against the door to support myself. Two jumps in a day is enough to exhaust me, but two jumps in an hour is...a lot. I only give myself a few seconds before I walk further into the dark house. The kitchen should be...yup. Right where I remember it. I sincerely hope the Wells hadn’t moved and that I wasn’t inside some stranger’s house right now. I flip the light on and my eyes land on a calendar hanging on the wall. My eyes land on the box with today’s date, and it has the words “Tay - group project” written in it. Okay. Group project. But _where?_ And when would she be home? I didn’t have time to scour all of Chicago to try and find her. I turned in a slow circle, looking for any other clues in the room. Spotting nothing, I head upstairs. The walls of the upstairs hallway aren’t the tan color from my memory, but my feet take me straight to Taylor’s room. I fumble around for the light switch, find it, and flick it on. On an unmade bed there are scattered papers and textbooks. I shuffle through the papers, but they all look academic. _Come_ on _, give me someth—_ I missed it at first glance, but at the top of the paper, there’s a handwritten phone number. I pull out my phone and dial it. It rings once. I rip a page out of one of the notebooks lying on the bed. It rings twice.

“Hello?” a voice says on the other line.

“Hi, sorry, I’m a friend of Taylor’s and I was wondering if you’re with her right now?”

“Um...yeah, but why? How do you have my number?”

“Sorry, I’m kind of in a hurry. I’m only in town for a little while and I need to see her about something.”

“We’re kind of busy right now—”

“It’ll just take a few minutes. I can just go and meet her.”

I hear muffled voices, but can’t make out what they’re saying, and then there’s the sound of the phone being shuffled around. I take the opportunity to scrawl a hurried note. Worst case scenario, I can give Taylor at least something to send her in the right direction.

“Hello?” a new voice says. “Who is this?”

“I’m a friend of Taylor’s, and I w—”

“Yeah, this is Taylor, who are you?”

I hadn’t recognized her voice off the bat, but I believe it’s her. I have to believe it is. I shove the note in my pocket, and without hesitating say, “It’s Lacey. Green.”

There’s a beat of silence, and then, “ _Lacey_?”

“Yeah, sorry, this is weird but do you have like five minutes?”

“I—What the hell?”

“Two minutes.”

“Aren’t you in Wales or something?”

“Was, yeah. I’m in Chicago now.” I turn the light in her room off and head downstairs. “I’m in a bit of a rush, but I need to give you something.”

“What?”

“It’s easier to explain in person,” I say on my descent down the stairs.

“Um...yeah, okay...I’m...at someone’s house right now, can you come here?”

“Yeah.” I flick the kitchen light off. “What’s the address?”

She tells me as I walk out the front door, and I commit it to memory. “Got it, I’ll just call this number when I’m there.” I hang up before she has a chance to say anything.

I call the number of the taxi service I used before and get a cab to the address Taylor told me. Fifteen minutes later, I find myself out front of an enormous house. I go to my recent calls and call the same number again.

“Hello?” This time Taylor answers right away.

“I’m outside.”

“Uh...could you come inside? The door’s open.”

I press my lips together, wishing she would just come out, but I don’t have time to argue. “Yeah, okay.” I hang up and head inside.

The front door is heavy, but opens easily. I step inside and hear voices coming up faintly from below. I see Taylor as she climbs up the stairs from the basement. She’s obviously much older, but I still remember her face well enough. When she sees me she looks taken aback.

“Um…” she seems to not know what to say or how to act, and I don’t blame her. We’ve had no contact for nine years, and I supposed I’m lucky she still remembers me, lucky that she agreed so easily to meet me.

“I know this is probably...confusing,” I say. “And I don’t have a lot of time to explain, but just hear me out. What I’m about to say is going to sound fucking nuts, but just listen.” Her classmates are just downstairs, but I can’t afford time to worry about what they hear or don’t. I know there’s a chance they’ll be pulled into this, too, anyway. “Remember when we were kids? And you told me that you could talk to people that other people couldn’t see? I believed you then, and I believe you now. That’s part of why I’m here. The other part is that I don’t know anyone else that’s...uninvolved in...my current situation.”

Taylor obviously has no idea what I’m saying, but I continue anyway.

“I’m going to apologize right now,” I say, “for all the stuff that’s going to happen after this, and I know that a lot of stuff isn’t going to really make sense, but there’s no time for me to sit down and explain everything, but…” This is so hard. I literally don’t know how to sum everything up in a concise, precise manner. “So...you have your gift, and that’s one thing, but there’s also people who have other gifts. Different gifts. And they’re kind of like yours, but not really. And there’s people who...this sounds ridiculous, but there’s horrible, horrible people that—”

I feel the intrusion the moment it happens, and squeeze my eyes shut. _No, no, no._ “Don’t speak,” I say. “Do not say a word.” I blindly fumble to get the bandana I have wrapped around my wrist off and tie it around my head, covering my eyes. She hasn’t said a word so far and I’m thankful. I take the note and my phone out from my pocket and hold the folded paper out for her. They could figure out where I am any minute. Any hint could give it away. She takes it silently.

I set my phone on the ground and crush it under my heel. I know it’s not bugged, but I can’t have anyone seeing any of the call history or anything of the other information on it.

“What happens next...I need you to not call anyone or try to stop it. Just...let it happen. Don’t react. And don’t take my blindfold off,” I tell her. My hands are trembling as I reach behind my back. “No matter what happens, _do not_ uncover my eyes.”

I hate this. I hate this responsibility, hate that this is what things have come to, hate the people who drove me here, hate that I’m so accustomed to death and losing people. In the end, it doesn’t make it easier though. I pull out my dagger and hold it in a white knuckle grip. My hands can’t shake in this moment. I have to be strong and quick. No hesitation. No fear. No time left.


End file.
